


primetime

by kirkspocks



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Mild humiliation kink, Prison Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:11:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4601196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirkspocks/pseuds/kirkspocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Is everything alright?” Hannibal asked, though his voice sounded wholly unconcerned. </p><p>“Just thinking about the security cameras,” Will said. He shuddered and pressed himself back down on Hannibal’s twitching cock, resumed their languid pace. </p><p>Hannibal’s eyes lit up at Will’s response. “Dirty boy,” he said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	primetime

**Author's Note:**

> i suppose this is kind of an AU where will isn't with molly. don't think too much about it.

Up until now, Will had only met Hannibal from outside his glass-windowed cell.

Receiving permission to actually enter the cell was a long and tedious process. Alana Bloom didn’t go anywhere near it unless she was accompanied by three orderlies: one with mace, another with a tranquilizer dart, the last with restraints. And usually, according to her, Hannibal was wrapped up and muzzled when she needed to step inside.

Naturally, Alana was hesitant to allow Will entrance to Hannibal’s living space. There were just two guards stationed by the farthest door, and Hannibal’s only restraints were his handcuffs. She gave Will an earful of warnings when he stopped by her office the evening of his visit. Will made sure to express his gratitude before he left, giving Alana a pleasant smile in response to her wary stare.

After an extensive pat-down and an oral list of safety instructions, Will was let into Hannibal’s cell. He watched and waited for the guards to walk back to their posts at the door.

Everything in the cell clashed with Hannibal’s tastes and aesthetic, which Will found to be a fitting punishment. Hannibal wore an unflattering jumpsuit, and his hair was cut short, somewhat untamed. The cell—despite its large size and ornate walls—had none of the luxuries Hannibal prided himself on before. The toilet and bed were out in the open, providing absolutely no privacy. An ugly steel chair and table were bolted to the floor.

And then there were the cuffs shackled to Hannibal’s wrists. Excitement buzzed through Will at the sight of Hannibal chained down to the table like a misbehaved dog. Hannibal caught on quickly, observed the light in Will’s eyes as his gaze wandered around the cell.

“You enjoy seeing me like this,” Hannibal said flatly.

Will tilted his head. He wanted to say yes: he knew that Hannibal was where he belonged, and that buzz of excitement hadn’t left him just yet. But the words of assent would not leave Will’s mouth—because a small portion of him did, in fact, wonder what it would be like if Hannibal were free, if he had run away with him, like Hannibal had wanted. 

“Not entirely true,” Will said. He stepped towards Hannibal—who couldn’t even rise from his chair because of the chain—and looked down at him.

“A part of you regrets taking my freedom from me, then.”

Ignoring the chair that had been thoughtfully placed at the opposite end of the table, Will slid into Hannibal’s lap. It took some maneuvering, but Hannibal, knowing what Will wanted, lifted his arm as much as he could to let him duck underneath the chain. Will looked into Hannibal's eyes, observed their predatory glint.

“You tried to kill me,” Will said.

“Yes.”

Will leaned in close, his mouth by Hannibal’s ear. “You tried to eat me,” he whispered, as if it was a secret. Like he didn’t want the guards, off in the distance, to hear. Like the whole world did not already know Hannibal’s habits.

The chain was long enough for Hannibal to grip just above Will’s waist, dig his fingers into his skin, and tug him closer. 

“Yes,” Hannibal said. His voice was low, raspy. Despite the morbidity of their concise conversation, Will was compelled to press a kiss to the corner of Hannibal’s mouth, and did so in an awkward jolt of movement. Will, unsure, began to pull back, but Hannibal took the opportunity to kiss Will on the lips.

They stayed just like that—lips pressed together in a gentle, rather innocent way—for a short while. When Will opened his mouth against Hannibal’s, Hannibal let out a soft noise, licked inside and bit at Will’s lower lip.

Hannibal reluctantly parted from Will’s mouth. Dizzy and warm, Will couldn’t bring himself to reopen his eyes, and waited eagerly for Hannibal to kiss him again. But Hannibal didn’t—he leaned into Will’s neck instead, bit down at the space where Will’s neck met his shoulder. The bites weren’t skin-piercing, but it felt like Hannibal wanted to eat Will raw.

The thought was becoming more true by the second, Will realized, as Hannibal took his time tasting Will’s skin, which was no doubt sweat-dampened by now. He regretted wearing such a thick sweater. 

Will blinked his eyes open. Deciding that he did not want Hannibal to spend their time together simply biting his neck until it was sore, Will began to unfasten the buttons of Hannibal’s jumpsuit. As he moved down, he slowly exposed Hannibal’s chest—momentarily distracted by how untrimmed it was—until he could reach into his prison-standard boxers. They were obviously cheap, nothing like what Hannibal used to wear. Will pulled out Hannibal’s cock, heavy in his hand, and was pleased to find him already half-hard.

“Biting me got you this excited?” Will asked, his voice bubbling with laughter, feeling brave enough to tease. He unzipped his pants and took out his own cock, then pressed them together, used his thumb to rub back and forth over the heads. Heat pooled in Will’s stomach, aroused and smug, when he discovered that Hannibal’s tip was quickly getting slick from these few touches alone.

“I was excited that you chose to sit on my lap, all things considered,” Hannibal said, unashamed.

“Because part of me still trusts you, all things considered.”

Hannibal gave Will a proud smile, his eyes shining, the same expression he had when Will spat out another man’s flesh all those years ago. This time, though, Will smiled back.

* * *

Apparently—according to an explanation he gave in a rushed, breathless whisper—Hannibal had requested a few packets of body oil as a reward for good behavior. 

Will had to retrieve one of the packets from its place on the edge of Hannibal’s sink. It looked like something you’d find in the bathroom of a cheap motel. Will wondered how long Hannibal had kept his clever mouth shut in Alana’s presence just to receive the small luxury. 

Now Will, back in Hannibal’s lap, was naked save for his sweater. His pants and boxers were in a heap on the floor beside the metal table. He had just finished hastily opening himself up with oil-slick fingers—Hannibal couldn’t, with his limited reach. He had watched Will instead, and Will smiled each time he felt Hannibal rubbing his leaking cock against his thigh, impatient.

Once Will seated himself on Hannibal’s cock, he lifted himself upwards, let the fat tip of Hannibal’s cock slide against his opening over and over again in a teasing motion. Occasionally, Will would sink down on it, listen to Hannibal’s quiet intake of breath with immense satisfaction, then remove himself again. The next time Will tried, Hannibal simply pushed his hips upwards until his length was inside Will entirely.

Will arched, mouth dropping open, and lowered his tensed thighs so that he sat back on Hannibal’s lap. They rocked together slowly, and Will hummed, pleased by the ache of Hannibal stretching him open. When Will felt that the ache was subsiding, he held onto Hannibal’s shoulders and bounced himself on his cock. 

“I’ve thought of you often,” Hannibal said, his voice strained as he shifted his hips. “Having you tease me was not something I imagined.”

“I was having fun.” Will’s smug tone was cut by his breathlessness, and Hannibal only responded with a low moan.

As they entered a steady rhythm, Will’s mind wandered, and he thought of how he’d longed for Hannibal, how he missed their nights together in his home. From over Hannibal’s shoulder, Will saw his bed pushed against the wall, and wondered if there would ever be a time when Hannibal could fuck him there. Will's eyes drifted upwards and caught sight of a security camera. A wave of embarrassment hit Will, startled him with its violent shock, when he remembered the guards in the corner—it was easy to forget with his back turned to them—and how this was all being monitored. 

The embarrassment mixed with Will’s pleasure, made him feel hazy and hot in a way he'd forgotten he'd enjoyed so much. Will felt himself pause his movement along Hannibal’s cock, stuck between wanting to stop out of shame and desperately needing more.

“Is everything alright?” Hannibal asked, though his voice sounded wholly unconcerned. 

“Just thinking about the security cameras,” Will said. He shuddered and pressed himself back down on Hannibal’s twitching cock, resumed their languid pace. 

Hannibal’s eyes lit up at Will’s response. “Dirty boy,” he said.

Will huffed a laugh, felt his face redden from Hannibal’s words. He’d always liked when Hannibal tried to embarrass him, and he found himself squirming, circling his hips at the thought alone. Hannibal gave Will a thoughtful look, then decided to speed up his thrusts.

“What would Dr. Bloom think?” Hannibal was deep inside Will now, tapping at his prostate almost constantly.

“Oh, God,” Will moaned. Guilt and shame pooled hot in his stomach, made Will’s cock twitch. He rubbed himself against Hannibal, craving friction.

“She might punish me for this,” Hannibal said. “The things I do for you.”

“Oh, fuck.”

Will held tightly onto Hannibal, scratched his nails along his back as he rut into him. Hannibal couldn’t reach Will’s hips, so he held tightly Will’s waist instead, right below his ribs, forcing him to stay still. With Hannibal’s rough grip, Will resorted to writhing on his cock, heavy and full inside him.

“Can she see—the cameras, I was just thinking about—oh, God—of course she can see. Fuck,” Will said, so distracted that he was stuttering over his own words.

“Does that excite you? To know there is someone watching?” Hannibal asked. Will could hear the hitch in his breath, the excitement he got from teasing Will, making him blush. 

“Hannibal,” Will gasped, and then Hannibal was sliding down in his chair, angling himself until he had more leverage. He was reckless now, slamming his hips against Will. A filthy sound—skin slapping together, embarrassingly wet—echoed in the cell.

“Or are you excited by the idea of me being punished?” Hannibal asked.

“Oh, fuck, Hannibal. Christ.”

“Dr. Bloom plans to humiliate me if I misbehave. I’m sure you’d like to see that. Naughty thing.”

Will’s chest was rising and falling with quick little gasps. The things Hannibal said, the things he forced Will to imagine, made him feel searing hot. Will reached between his thighs and stroked himself, rough enough so that the slide of skin on skin was clearly audible throughout the cell. The relief of it made Will curl in on himself.

Hannibal bit sharply at Will’s shoulder, disapproving, and Will yelped in surprise.

“Don’t,” he said.

“Oh, God, please let me,” Will whined. “I’m so close.” He hoped the begging would appease Hannibal. The knowledge that the guards off in the corner could most likely hear him beg made Will’s cock twitch desperately, the shame of it flooding him, coiling together with the pleasure. Just a few more strokes and Will would be done.

“Mm. In a bit,” Hannibal said. “I’m enjoying myself—it’s been a long time.” 

Though he knew Hannibal wouldn’t listen, Will continued mumbling slurred pleas. He rocked himself on Hannibal’s cock, as much as he could beneath Hannibal’s restrictive grip, and cried out, still unable to get the release he wanted. Humiliated by his own noises and begging, Will hid his face in the crook of Hannibal’s neck.

“I often hoped that once gained permission to enter my cell, I would be able to take my time with you,” Hannibal said.

“Yeah?” Will exhaled. Hannibal was speaking lowly into Will’s ear, his warm breath ghosting over it, and Will was so sensitive there, it made shivers course through his body. Will reached his hand down again, deliriously hoping Hannibal wouldn’t notice. He rubbed at his slit, leaking and wet, a strand of pre-come sticking to his thumb. Hannibal sunk his teeth into his skin again, warning Will to stop.

“And I would like to do much more to you,” Hannibal admitted, nuzzling into Will’s shoulder, “but I feel I might finish soon, with you so impatient.”

“Sorry, I just—” Will choked on his words. “Let me come, please, then you can do what you want—please—“

Hannibal pushed in as deep as his cock could go, then growled lowly until it tapered off into a moan. Typically Hannibal made only a few grunts during sex, sighing on occasion—though he was always rather talkative—but now Will was treated to Hannibal being especially loud, groaning and shakily exhaling as he thrust into him.

It was obvious to Will that despite Hannibal’s composure, he had ached to fuck into something other than his hand. Hannibal had said that he’d longed for Will. Now, with Will in his lap, Hannibal couldn’t control himself. He and Will were at the same point of desire and need.

The near-constant strikes to Will’s prostate were overwhelming, made him shudder and tremble. Will, ignoring Hannibal’s discontent from earlier, brought his hand back down to his cock and squeezed a bit, played with himself, waited for Hannibal to bite at him again. When he didn’t, Will stroked himself erratically, rubbed his thumb over his head, his frenulum. Hannibal was allowing him jerk himself off—which meant Will was allowed to come, and he was so relieved for it. Will focused on how much Hannibal’s cock filled him up, how it effortlessly nudged up against his prostate, prodding there and sending waves of pleasure through him, forcing his cock to drip and twitch. 

 

Will gasped, stilled the hand wrapped around himself, and came hard, spilling over his hand and Hannibal’s stomach, tightening his hole around Hannibal’s cock. In the haze of orgasm, Will noticed that Hannibal had stilled too, had taken to biting Will’s neck to muffle his noises. There were only small, minute movements of his hips, just enough to press himself in a bit deeper, let his cock pulse and rub inside until he came. Though Will was spent, he whined at the feeling of Hannibal's come shooting inside him, wiggled his hips until Hannibal was done.

 

“Fuck,” Will said, his voice breaking.

Hannibal was resting his forehead on Will’s shoulder now, and he nodded in agreement. The idea of Hannibal agreeing with such a simple and crude statement made Will flutter with affection. He smiled lazily at the sight of Hannibal’s hair sweaty and disheveled and the sound of him softly panting, trying to collect himself. Will rose himself off of Hannibal’s softening cock.

“I apologize for not having a shower for you to clean up in,” Hannibal said quietly, as if not having a personal shower in a prison cell was rude. Hannibal let his head fall back, then looked at Will with glazed, tired eyes.

Will pressed a kiss to Hannibal’s temple. “I didn’t expect you to,” he said, then buttoned up Hannibal’s jumpsuit, slowly, until both of them had calmed their breathing.

As Will climbed off of Hannibal’s lap and away from Hannibal’s warm gaze, he was brought sharply back into reality. They were not in Will’s small home in Wolf Trap, or Hannibal’s immaculate master bedroom, and Hannibal’s talk wasn’t just playful fantasy. They were, in fact, surrounded cameras and guards. And Alana. Will pushed the thought away so that he could gather his clothes from the floor without breaking into a panic.

Hannibal watched Will dress, shamelessly savoring the sight. Both knew there was no telling when, exactly, Will’s next visit would be.

“I’ll try to be back soon,” Will said. He already felt dirty back in his clothes—for reasons he did not want to think too much about—and looked forwards to showering in the privacy of his home. He placed a hand on Hannibal’s shoulder and squeezed, hesitant to leave him.

“I should hope so,” Hannibal said. A hint of a smile was on his lips. “Goodbye, Will.”

Will left the cell. The guards opened the door as Will approached the room’s exit. He stared at the floor, pushed past them with ears burning red, and swore he could feel Hannibal’s triumphant gaze on his back as he exited the room. 

Will, with shame heavy in his gut—the very same feeling he’d enjoyed minutes earlier—hurried past Alana’s office, not quite mentally prepared for her inevitable chastising. He would check in with her next time.

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to my friend bel who might have actually convinced me to continue this. god what am i doing with my life
> 
> visit me at kirkspocks.tumblr.com!


End file.
